Closer than skin
by sakuraxkisu
Summary: SasuSaku Anthology. COMPLETED. 12Stories. Love: Sometimes, words weren't required.
1. Aren't we mister daring?

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**TITLE:** Aren't we mister daring?  
**AUTHOR:** Sakuraxkisu  
**FANDOM:** Naruto  
**PAIRING:** Uchiha Sasuke/Haruno Sakura  
**GENRE:** Gen.  
**TABLE: **#5 Light  
**PROMPT:** #3 kisses  
**RATING:** **T  
WORD COUNT:** 1,106 words  
**SUMMARY:** The first dare you do is always the best one.  
**NOTES:** AU and OOC Characters; from Sakura's POV.  
**DISCLAIMER:** The anime/manga series Naruto are the property of Masashi Kishimoto.

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I remained safely seated in this cold, leather single seater, trying to keep a straight face at the sight of Naruto's childishly adorable face turn shocked, his eyebrows furrowed together and mouth in a big "O".

"Sas–Sasuke–teme?!" Naruto spluttered, whilst Sasuke smirked haughtily, "You can't dare me not to eat ramen for a _month_!"

"I just did," Sasuke deadpanned, his tone of voice slightly exasperate, but the triumphant smirk still on his face, "_Ba_–_ka_."

Naruto growled at him, ready to completely lose his rag and pounce on him at any moment.

Sometimes, their pointless arguments _could_ be hilarious –when you weren't involved in them, mind you (!)– as long as they weren't rasengan-ing or chidori-ing the other persons' ass.

(Well, not the ass, more like the chest, but you get my point.)

However, this time, their was a slight point to it.

You see, the whole thing started off, when Naruto decided it would be "Utterly hilarious" to see the "teme" (Sasuke-kun) doing his dirty work –To which the "teme" glared viciously at said idiot–. And, the glaring soon lead to more glaring, which then lead to Naruto's utterly haphazard and equally slow mind getting a light-bulb-worthy idea; They should play dares.

And, what's more shocking, is that Sasuke-kun actually agreed to it.

Which has lead to the current situation at hand.

Naruto decided to be "fair" and give Sasuke-kun the first dare, which was for Naruto to not eat ramen for a month (which is pretty harsh, but I guess he deserves it. Sort of.)

And, currently, Naruto had started mini-argument, for umpteenth time.

(Naruto: "You bastard!")

(Sasuke: –Deathglares–)

Which was not turning out to be as hilarious as I thought it'd be.

Sasuke-kun was saying nothing, and using those captivating yet spine tingling in-more-ways-than-one sable orbs to glare holes inside of Naruto's body.

As for Naruto…Well, let's just say he was being his usual retard yet utterly loveable self.

(Though I'm not surprised Sasuke-kun doesn't think of Naruto as loveable.)

(Sasuke: Shut it,_ Dobe_.)

(Naruto: TEME?!)

I let out an exasperate sigh, as I hear the same argument I've been given the _honour_ of hearing for the last 4 years, before getting up.

"Ja ne," I quickly murmur, flashing a smile – to which Sasuke 'Hn'-ed and Naruto stared at me curiously, before smiling deviou—I-DON'T-LIKE-THAT-SMILE!

I walk away briskly, before I could hear, or see, what Naruto was going to do.

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I was busy sorting out Tsunade-shishou's papers –DAMN THAT LAZY BITCH!– whilst she was out, most likely drinking, considering her habits, when I heard a knock on the door.

"Hai?" I stated, looking up and cursing when I heard the papers in my hands fall to the ground.

I hear the door open swiftly, as I quickly gather the papers in my hands.

"Well, what do you want?" I ask the person in a rather rude manner –I'll apologise later, papers now!–, quickly re-shuffling the papers into the correct order, waiting for the person to speak.

The person hadn't spoken for 30 seconds, I noted, as I quickly got up and placed the papers on the desk.

"Well, what do you wa—"

My words were cut off, as the person grabbed me by my arms and…

Whoa…

The person was kissing me; oh god, this is just like one of those cliché romance stories I've read about, when the stranger kissing the main female protagonist turns out to be a sexy god, who then claims their undying love for the heroine, marries her, and impregnate—I WAS BEING KISSED BY A STRANGER?!

Even though my eyes were open, I couldn't make out the person's face; I could see a few sable strands of hair, and long dark eyelashes that reminded me of Sasuke-kun's eyela—

Wait a second…

I looked harder at the person, until…

Until...

Oh.

My.

God.

**Sai** was _kissing_ me…!

Wait…

**Sai** was _kissing_ me…?

**Sai** was _kissing_ me…?

**Sai** was _kissing_ me…?

**Sai** was _kissing_ me…?!

Wait a second; Sai, as in the new guy who had virtually no social skills save romantic skills, was kissing, kissing, _kissing_ me, when he can't even _interact_ with me without making me angry…!?

I couldn't help but gasp, opening my mouth; Sai was KISSING ME?!

Oh…

Wait a second…

HE'S FRENCHING ME?!

Oh.

My.

Fudging.

God.

_He was _frenching_ me!_

(And he was doing it pretty well, at that!)

I felt his mouth leave mine, moving all around my cheeks, before moving downwards towards my neck, leaving a trail of saliva all around my face and neck.

His eyelashes tickled my neck, as I wrapped my arms around his upper arms, his arms already around my waist.

I couldn't help but whimper and moan softly; where had Sai learned to kiss like this? Do they have kissing classes or something in England?

I heard him moan softly, his voice sounding strangely alien to me.

I then felt a sudden cool feeling around the small of my back…

Wait one goddamn second…

His hands were going up my shirt; what, did he like me enough to do this sort of thing? I mean, if he even liked me, why the hell does he call me hag—OH MY GOD HIS HANDS ARE GOING UP MY SHIRT?!

(And god, they're _cold_!)

I quickly reopen my eyes, upon my short wakeup call, and pushed him away from me, stumbling back a few steps, as did he.

And, when I finally opened my eyes, they needed a lot of rubbing…

I mean: since when did Sai have spikey hair? And colour in his face? And all black clothes? And eyes, which reminded me of Sasuke-kun's ever-so-mesmerising eyes…

Oh.

_Oh._

OH!

OHMYGOD!

IT _IS_ SASUKE-KUN!

And, he was quite a sight, at that; a red tint to his cheeks, messy hair, a few buttons ripped off his shirt –oops– and the zipper of his trousers were slightly undone.

Shit.

"Sas…Sasuke-kun…!" I said hoarsely, finally realising how hot my cheeks were.

Honestly, I didn't know what to say after that, other than OHMYGODMYLIFELONGDREAMHASCOMETRUE!

I just got frenched by Sasuke-kun, **yes**, _The_ Uchiha Sasuke-kun!

So there was a purpose for my existence (!)

"…Sakura…" He mumbled, –god it was weird to him speak so quietly–.

But, what was stranger was that I had an urge to kiss him.

And I did.

And I frenched him.

And groped him.

And got groped.

5 OF THE MILLIONS OF THINGS I'VE WANTED TO DO IN MY LIFE HAVE BEEN DONE!

I smiled against his lips, before opening my mouth.

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_**Really random. I mean really random! Anyways, any sort of acknowledgement of my fanfiction/s (faves, alerts, reviews) are appreciated, MAJORLY!**_

**_- Sakura x Kisu_**


	2. The light before we land

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**TITLE:** The light before we land  
**AUTHOR:** Sakuraxkisu  
**FANDOM:** Naruto  
**PAIRING:** Uchiha Sasuke/Haruno Sakura  
**GENRE:** Gen.  
**TABLE: **#5 Light  
**PROMPT:** #9 Light  
**RATING:** **T  
WORD COUNT:** 618 words  
**SUMMARY:** She runs now. But, she'll be the one running to him. After all, she is his endlessly glowing candle, his everlasting light.  
**NOTES:** AU and OOC Characters; from Sasuke's POV. BTW, I'm not good at doing stories from Sasuke's POV, soo...just a warning.  
**DISCLAIMER:** The anime/manga series Naruto are the property of Masashi Kishimoto; "The light before we land" belongs to the band "The Delgado's".

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_And when I feel like_

_I can feel once again._

_Let me stay awhile_

_Soak it in awhile._

_If we can hold on,_

_We can face what is wrong. _

_Buy a little time,_

_For this head of mine…_

_Heaven for __**us**__…_

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I walked quickly, briskly, through this bright, light-filled forest, trying to find something, _anything_, in this vast field of derelict.

The flowers were bright, vivid reds; serene blues; subtle peaches, all colours representing one emotion: Happiness; Rejoice; Harmony.

I hated light; I hated all these different "manifestations" of happiness; I hated seeing different creatures smile and laugh raucously, talking boisterously.

It irked me; how they could smile so easily, whereas I could not, without being looked at like I was a stranger to this world.

I stalked through the small forest, the last of the autumn leaves flowing away from me as I moved with infinite force, almost in a dejected manner, though I knew it was impossible for leaves to feel. But, then again, this world was filled with gods and goddesses, and creatures of all kinds, so what could I believe now?

What was I doing here? I came to a standstill, just at the exit of a huge grove of willow trees, the huge branches falling to one side, the trunk of the willow hunched over. Weeping willows.

I didn't know what I was doing here, nor did I know what I was looking for.

Something to make me feel…content. No, something to make me _feel_, in general.

The darkness of my own "home" had made the isolation unbearable; and what made it worse was that above the ground, in the sky, the other gods and goddesses were smiling and laughing, whereas I was not. This one fact pierced both my frozen heart and soul ceaselessly and effortlessly.

And, as I was about to trudge back through the forest, to my "home", something caught my eye.

A group of nymphs most likely, all dressed in white dresses, flowers in their auburn brown wavy tresses, were playing with each other, their voices soothing like the wind, as they laughed and spoke softly, picking flowers, and plaiting another nymph's hair.

However, the nymphs weren't what caught my eye; a young goddess was with them and stood out most.

Wavy coral tresses fell down to her waist, daisies plaited into her wavy locks; wide, vivid green eyes, reminding me of emeralds, glinted with pure innocence; a plump pair of naturally soft pink lips stretched into a breathtaking smile; peach coloured skin glowed luminously, her peach coloured dress also matching her perfectly.

And then she spoke.

A light, airy, perfect pitched voice left from those lips; a true goddess.

"Ino!" She said, a melodious laughter leaving her mouth, as one of the nymphs proceeded to tickle her.

"Sakura, you said you weren't ticklish!" Sakura….the goddess' name was _Sakura_. Strange, I felt as though I've heard that name before.

The nymph continued to tickle the goddess, Sakura, as I tried to figure out where I had heard the name Sakura.

That was when it clicked; she was my _niece_.

Rin's daughter.

I continued to watch Sakura, mesmerised by her; her beauty, her voice, how she could come across as such a beautiful goddess by acting completely natural.

But, what astounded me most was that I _wanted_ to see her smile; hear her laugh; and hold her frail body, whereas I usually detested the sight of a smile, or the sound of laughter.

However, as I watched her smile, I felt something.

That was when it struck me; she was what I was looking for.

Sakura was my target.

Sakura was my light; the single candle, burning stubbornly in endless darkness.

And, regardless of the fact that she was part of my own kin, that I was related to her, I was not about to let go of her.

Because she is the light…

The light before I land…

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_**. . . I don't like this. I bet I could write it better; I just don't think I can be bothered enough to re-write this. Well, who knows, maybe I'll re-write in the near future. Or something. And yeah, it is pretty strange, Sasuke as Sakura's uncle, but that's how the myth was (Hades is Persephone's uncle). And yeah, I know Hades is meant to be really ugly, but I've started to think that he was probably a pretty boy. Like Sasuke LOL.**_

_**Review Reply**_

TennantFangirl_**: . . . I understand your language. AND THANK YA! You're review made me smile. Or grin manically. (I think the latter is true-r ;)**_

S-makn_**: Aww, you're reviews are always a pleasure to read! And yes, it truly is the end of the world (HIDE UNDER YOUR BEDS KIDDIES!) Well, I'll leave the "Sakura-finding-out-that-it-was-a-dare" thing to your imagination. Though I think there's only word for it: BLOODLUST.**_

Avalache1_**: Thanks! And I'll try to update ASAP!**_

Strings of a puppet_**: One word: OOPS! (I'll edit it when I can be bothered :p) –blushes– You flatter me! And yes, I **_**lurve**_** SasuSaku kisses (and fluff – FLUFF IS TEH OWNAGE OF PWNAGENESS-NESS!) Ah, I have a feeling Sakura would go a bit "schizo" on Naruto (. . . well, a bit is an understatement).**_

_**And, thanks to the following:**_

_**Clenalyn, Vine, Silver Spirit and SharinganBlossom.**_

_**Any sorts of acknowledgement of my fanfic/s (faves, alerts, reviews, heck just plain views) are appreciated.**_

_**- Sakura x Kisu**_


	3. Hoping is another annoying trait of mine

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**TITLE:** Hoping is another annoying trait of mine  
**AUTHOR:** Sakuraxkisu  
**FANDOM:** Naruto  
**PAIRING:** Uchiha Sasuke/Haruno Sakura  
**GENRE:** Gen.  
**TABLE: **#5 Light  
**PROMPT:** #4 hope  
**RATING:** **T  
WORD COUNT:** 867 words  
**SUMMARY:** I know you don't love me right now. I know that you're only using me. But, I can't help but hope that you will come to love and cherish me…  
**NOTES:** AU and OOC Characters; from Sakura's POV.  
**DISCLAIMER:** The anime/manga series Naruto are the property of Masashi Kishimoto.

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I stayed in the simple "king-sized" bed, keeping my eyes shut and pretending to be asleep, as I heard him shuffling slightly and head towards the bathroom.

I knew what he was going to do today: First he'd eat breakfast before me, then go do training, then take a break, then train or spar with someone, then take a break and come back "home" in the evening, and take me.

That's the way his life has gone since the past two months; since that while ago, when I had first married him.

I didn't know then and I still don't know how he could go on living like this, repeating his simple schedule day after day.

Was this really how he wanted to spend his last decades, right up to the day he died? This was what I had thought during the first month of our marriage.

The first month I had spent being married to Sasuke-kun was tough, I'll admit. It was hard, and almost depressing, knowing that you're life would go on like a never-changing, never-ending cycle; the same repeated over and over again, like a replay of something shocking on TV, replaying itself automatically.

And, that wasn't the only thing I found difficult.

We hardly ever, if anything, we never talked; we never really had a proper conversation about anything interesting. All the times I had tried to start a conversation with Sasuke-kun, even in the past, when we were thirteen, all the conversations ended in glares, or incoherent grunts.

All our "good life" consisted of was: trying for a baby almost every other night; tense silences that made me want to scream and lash out at Sasuke-kun for being so goddamned aloof and too-cool-for-school; a bad social life, or lack of social life (if it weren't for Naruto, or for the fact that I was best friends with Ino, we probably wouldn't be friends with anyone).

And most of all; no romance.

Sasuke-kun didn't love me.

I guess he made this pretty clear, after I had heard him say it to my face, clear and simple. Those blunt four words, all as sharp as a knife, scratched at my heart.

I don't love you.

I don't love you.

I don't love you.

I _don't_ love you.

After Sasuke-kun made this clear to me, I finally realised what I had gotten myself into.

When I had told him that I would do anything for him, that I "loved him with all my heart" (in those exact words), he believed me.

And, look where those foolish, contagiously naïve words brought me to; being naked, in this ice-cold bed, shivering as goose-bumps continue to multiply.

I wrap my arms around my waist, hugging myself.

All I had ever wanted in my life was to be held by the man of my dreams; Sasuke-kun. But, here I am, wrapping my arms around myself.

Am I so selfish and naïve for expecting Sasuke-kun to hold me tightly and whisper his words of love to me?

My arms are only making me colder; sending unwanted shivers up and around my body, making my body shake and shiver.

Am I such a bad person, for giving love and wanting love in return?

Am I so unreasonable, that I don't even deserve his appreciation?

Every night I let him have his own way with me, he never looks at me. He never looks at me directly in the eye. He never says anything to me. He just continues to do the deed; he just carries on, silent and skilful.

It's almost frustrating, to know that he isn't experiencing the same feeling as me; that he doesn't feel the same way, the same connection I feel with him. He just brushes it off, and does his work.

I turn my body to the side, so I'm facing the plain, dark grey coloured curtains.

But, even after all the pain he causes me –both purposely and unknowingly–, I still have hope.

I still hope that one day, in the near future, Sasuke-kun will see me in a new light, and from then on, grow to love me.

I jump in the bed when I hear the entrance door slam shut, taking me out of my thoughts before I could continue my "wishlist in life".

Though the chances of Sasuke-kun falling for me were low, I still couldn't help but hope.

After all, he is only human.

Human's feelings change and build gradually overtime, like new buildings; some buildings are still in construction, like emotions, but overtime, those buildings will become complete, as will different emotions.

I feel a sudden surge of cold searing throughout my body almost instantaneously after I push the bed cover off of me.

I know; I shouldn't be so naïve enough to trust him, not after what happened in the past. But now, things are different; Itachi, Orochimaru, even the Akatsuki have been completely wiped off the face of the earth.

And, maybe…

Just_ maybe_…

Things might be different this time…

And Sasuke-kun might feel something for me, just as I feel love for him…

This is all I can hope for right now…

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_**Yay, got loadsa reviews! (I **_**lurve**_** reviews). Well, I was pretty surprised at first, when I checked my email. Well, thankies everyone! (And BTW, just because you haven't reviewed, or favourited etc. etc. doesn't mean I'm not thankful! Knowing that people read my stories and likes them is enough for me!) **_

_**Review Reply**_

TennantFangirl_**: If I'm honest, I don't like incest. Only in slightly, SLIGHTLY rare cases do I like incest (I can't help it; the older brother + younger sister forbidden love thing is sorta cute. SORTA.) And the only reason why I got that thought was when I read this fanfic by KineticFairy (Forgotten the name; it's something like "Strings of…." ?? ah well!)**_

Laura-chan_**: Ah, but that's what makes Naruto so…lovable LOL XD and, if I'm really honest, 'the light before we land' wasn't meant to be all heartfelt and happy. It was meant to be more…darker? Well, I never was good at writing darker fanfics (!) And, sorry to upset you, but I'm not gonna continue it. I don't really have any ideas, and it's only meant to be a oneshot, so sorry! (use your imagination!)**_

Avalache1_**: Aw, thank ya!**_

xFlyxAwayxAngelx_**: Don't worry, I shall update. Soon.**_

S-makn_**: Aw, bless you! And I know, Greek god and goddess myths are SO interesting (I am in love with 'em!) And, I think that if I do continue this, Sasuke won't get annoyed by Sakura's antics (only slightly). He'll be more "amused" lol XD**_

Eleana Leone_**: Thankies:)**_

_**Also, thank you reader713 (for the alert add!)**_

_**Any sorts of acknowledgement of my fanfic/s (faves, alerts, reviews, heck just plain views) are appreciated.**_

_**- Sakura x Kisu**_


	4. Living through this endless winter

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**TITLE:** Living through this endless winter  
**AUTHOR:** Sakuraxkisu/Nightbeautyx  
**FANDOM:** Naruto  
**PAIRING:** Uchiha Sasuke/Haruno Sakura  
**GENRE:**Gen.  
**TABLE:** #5 Light  
**PROMPT:** #2 Comfort  
**RATING:** T for implied themes  
**WORD COUNT:** 864 words  
**SUMMARY:** First, you kidnap me, then you force me to marry you. I should hate you, but…I can't. Not when you're lying next to me, holding me, _comforting_ me.  
**NOTES:** Follow-up to "Light before we land". _Laura-chan_, this one's for you ('cos I felt guilty about not continuing!)  
**DISCLAIMER:** The anime/manga series 'Naruto' belongs Masashi Kishimoto.

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In the darkness of the room, the black walls and the grey ground, covered in soft velvet like rugs, only adding to the darkness, two people lay next to each other. 

No, not people…_A god and goddess_.

The god possessed dark sable locks of hair, which fell onto his face and tickled his neck; two dark orbs of endless night stared intensely at the woman in his arms, his mouth situated at her forehead.

The goddess, on the other hand, completely collided with the man, the room and the atmosphere – soft coral tresses fell down to her waist, various strands of hair tickling her forehead and face; vivid jade green eyes were lifeless, staring deeply into the man, no, **god's** dark eyes.

The god then diverted his relentless stare into space, and slowly inched closer to the goddess, making her half-consciously freeze, as he moved his mouth right towards her ear.

The goddess expected the man to breathe lustful kisses against her neck, drowning her in even more sin.

But, he didn't.

She didn't feel his ice-cold, ruthless lips on her skin – she didn't feel her body shaking from the boldness of his actions, or the shame.

Instead, he moved his calloused hand towards her hair, moving his hand through the deliciously soft wavy tresses of pink hair, moving his fingers down through the soft hair until he reached the back of the neck.

She suddenly shivered, as his hand literally moved through her hair and began to travel down her bare back, sending chills all throughout her body.

She clenched her teeth together tightly, as he began to draw circles with his fingers on the small of her back.

"Sakura," His breathy, yet sultry voice made the goddess slightly jump, to the gods' amusement, as he let out a small but sadistic smirk at her reaction.

The goddess, Sakura, remained quiet, waiting for him to finish his sentence, though he never did.

In fact, it seemed he was too preoccupied with his current actions. He continued to stroke her back, almost in a mocking manner.

"Sasuke," She began meekly, accidentally letting out an unwanted shudder, a second after her mouth had opened.

"What are you—"

Her voice was broken off by the god's, Sasuke's, voice.

"Ssh," He murmured into her ear, immediately quietening her, as he removed her hand from her back, to her surprise.

Instead, he wrapped one arm around her thin waist, and moved his other hand to stroke her soft pink tresses, almost in a loving manner.

Her vivid jade green eyes were wide and even after all they had gone through, she still couldn't help but blush.

She pulled the bed cover up slightly, so her chest and half of Sasuke's was covered by the soft, velvet maroon bed sheet.

Her breathing was soft, as Sasuke continued to stroke her hair softly, almost affectionately. Almost.

It had been so long, almost eternities, since that one lone moment, when she first caught sight of Sasuke, standing their, staring at her deeply.

Though the god was handsome, she could tell that there was something off about him.

However, it was only after Ino and the others had been knocked unconscious, and when she was being held by Sasuke, that it all clicked.

And, just before the moment she was thrust into endless dark, she realised he was Sasuke, the god of the underworld.

And that she would never see her mother or anyone else again.

This one thought scared her deeply; it was hard enough for her, living in the forest with the nymphs. Her mother had been too over-protective of her – even if Naruto and Lee were annoying, what with their several attempts at courting the goddess.

Sakura held back a sigh; maybe, if her mother had let her stay in Konoha, she wouldn't be in the predicament she was currently in.

But, here she was, lying in the arms of her captor and husband.

It was ironic; when she was kidnapped by him, and woke up for the first time in this dark room, she thought this was the end of her happiness. Never, in her entire life, would she have thought that she could've sought comfort in such a corrupt god.

Never would she have thought that she would be taken by the god form of darkness and sin, and enjoy being with him, at that.

But, here she was, lying in the arms of a broken god.

"Sakura…." Sasuke began, knowing that he had broken her track of thoughts, just by a mere glimpse of her face expression.

He tightened his arm around her waist, holding her tightly, possessively to himself. But, even after doing this one action, his fingers still moved gently through her tresses of hair.

"Will you stay with me for all eternity?"

Sasuke heard her gasp quietly, and didn't make any move to stop the malicious smirk from appearing on his face.

He still didn't want her to leave – Sasuke wanted her to stay with him.

He was determined to not let her go back to her mother, she was his. She was his wife, his slave in anyway possible.

And no one dared take what was his.

"…Yes."

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**_EDIT: I deleted the other comments I did because people are getting the wrong idea (once again!) Yes, I DO KNOW THAT GREEKS (AND EGYPTIANS) MARRY RELATIVES! I'm not THAT clueless (or stupid - Heck, I had to learn about gods and goddesses at school). And MintiNeko, I changed the sentence around ('cos it _did _make Sasuke sound like a paedophile). _**

_**- Sakura x Kisu**_


	5. Solus

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**TITLE:** Solus  
**AUTHOR:** Sakuraxkisu/Nightbeautyx  
**FANDOM:** Naruto  
**PAIRING:** Uchiha Sasuke/Haruno Sakura  
**GENRE: **Gen.  
**TABLE:** #5 Light  
**PROMPT:** #11 Truth  
**RATING:** **T**  
**WORD COUNT:** 1556 words  
**SUMMARY:** "Do I not deserve your love?" 'No. I don't deserve your love.' He loves her more than life itself. And for that reason, he can't tell her this.  
**NOTES:** Sasuke's POV. Hope it's not OOC. Also, the title, 'Solus' is Latin for 'alone'  
**DISCLAIMER:** The anime/manga series 'Naruto' belongs Masashi Kishimoto.

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_**Solus**_

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._Hero_.

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"Why can't you accept my love?" She cries, two orbs of pure, untainted jade filling with tears of anxiety which threatened to drip down those pale, porcelain-like cheeks. Tears that was caused by heartbreak and melancholy, all of which you have been the cause of.

It's your fault she sheds these tears for you; It's your fault you didn't push her away so she could save a single part of her tender, naïve heart; It's your fault her heart aches and that she can't love any other man; It's your fault that she'll never be able to love any other man apart from the one person who doesn't deserve to feel her love, or love her back--**you**.

You never should've crossed paths with her—in fact, you never should've passed her a look of any sorts. Look what's happened now—after one simple, quick glance, she was already shedding tears.

But, that was destiny--already planned by god. God and his alien but dark ways of finding entertainment; the concept of god and angels and the devil seem completely fake and synthetic. Synthetic dreams--people's pathetic dreams of wishing to be seen and noticed amongst the crowd of all the people; people's pathetic wishes of being seen as different, _special_ amongst the crowd of normal, mediocre life.

Everyone is the same; all people are the same. Though your pathetic excuse of a father looked down on the poorer and unfortunate folk of Konoha, you know very well that we're all the same. No one is special, you aren't special. If it weren't for your family, your sharingan and your looks, you would be nobody. No one is noticed solely by their perseverance and strength. People are shallow and like those whom come from richer families and well-known clans and are good-looking.

"Why can't you just love me?" Her voice is raspy and hoarse, most likely because of that dry, irking feeling inside your throat--that feeling you get, before you cry softly, almost soundlessly and no one can hear you; no one can comfort you or offer consolation. It's just you, on your own, with no one there to console you.

You know that feeling all too well.

She starts sobbing loudly, hiccupping and gasping stridently from that familiar dried out sensation in her throat.

"Sakura, please leave," You insist, hoping that she'll just swallow to make the sensation fade away and she'll get up and go. But things never were that easy.

"Sasuke-kun, _please_!" She walks briskly towards you, grabbing your hand and entwining her soft, small fingers with your own. They feel so small, so fragile in your hands, that you could just rip them apart and break the bones within by squeezing too hard. Just like with her heart.

"I can make the pain go away! I can help you, but please…!" She insists in desperation, holding back a sob. You want her to leave—**she has to leave, before she gets hurts,** you think, "…Please let me. I can make it all go away. Just tell me you love me, and I can make it go away…!"

Her way of thinking is so simple-minded; the ideal way—the way any naïve, unknowing person would think. It's ironic; she's been through so much heartbreak, yet she just can't seem to understand that love isn't that easy. You can't just take someone's to heart, you can't just trust them for their word; no living human is truthful.

You need to push her away, _**now**_. You can't risk this—Itachi is still alive. You can't risk telling her—you might lose her. You need to push her away, before she gets hurt, either by you or Itachi.

You glare at her, harshly, coldly and even though you've revealed this same glare to her for so many years, it still manages to shock you, how you manage to be so cold, even as the pain and the guilt becomes more unbearable by the second.

"_Leave_. I don't need your love. I don't need _you_. Just get out, _now_," The look in her beautiful, glassy, emerald green eyes makes whatever piece of your heart left shatter into millions of fragments. She holds back a gasp, while you take your hand away from hers, the warmth of her hands leaving you to feel the bitter coldness of reality.

You can still hear those words, even after all the years, ringing in your ears (—_I love you with all my heart!_ —), automatically replaying in your mind over and over again, the image of her lying on that rock-hard bench, two plump pink lips stretched into a small smile, etched into your mind. The amount of pain that one image of her had brought you was indescribable, unbearable; the guilt pierced right through your hardened, ice-cold heart easefully. It was almost ironic—you had spent years building up all those walls, both to protect you and others from getting hurt from befriending you, as though you were infected with an invincible disease and if they touched you, they would be contaminated and obliterated instantly, only to cause the guilt and grief to heighten.

And yet, when you stared down at her flawless, angelic, beautifully-chiseled features, whilst those words she had cried repeated in your mind, you felt the guilt pierce your heart easefully, the pain leaving for a few seconds, before the feeling came back ten times harder, as though you were being stabbed by a dagger incessantly.

You suddenly look up, broken out of your thoughts, when you hear her sobbing and gasping stopping immediately, only the soft lulling of the wind coming from outside could be heard.

"Do I not deserve your love?" If it weren't for the fact that you were cool, aloof, cold-hearted, indifferent Uchiha Sasuke, you would've gasped out loud. But you are.

"Am I _that_ annoying…_that_ frustrating….that I don't deserve your love?" Though her voice was quieter and softer, almost incoherent had it not been for your good well-trained senses, you could still tell that those tears were threatening to fall down those soft-to-touch cheeks.

You desperately want to say to her 'No. **I** don't deserve your love.' But, you don't. Because you're cool, aloof, cold-hearted, indifferent Uchiha Sasuke, and Uchiha Sasuke isn't one for that sort of thing. Uchiha Sasuke is more dignified that to confess his love to a lowly girl—Uchiha Sasuke has better things to do, like avenging his clan, instead of confessing to such an insolent girl.

Silence reigns for a few seconds; these seconds manage to be the longest seconds of your life. The soft lulling of the wind can be heard, calming, soothing. It makes you think—_why_ are you having this argument? _Why_ couldn't it have been another way? That, instead of pushing her away, you could hold her close to yourself, let her rest her head by your shoulder, whilst only the soft, incoherent lullaby of the wind soothed you and her.

But, this wasn't another person we were talking about. This was Uchiha Sasuke, the younger brother of Uchiha Itachi, the man who killed his own kin but left his little brother alive, so that at night, his brother would see those same bloody, sinister images replaying, scarring his mind and sanity.

This was Uchiha Sasuke—the younger Uchiha who betrayed Konoha for revenge, the younger Uchiha who ran to Orochimaru for power, when he could've gained the same amount of strength in a more honest way at Konoha.

"So you _don'__t_ love me." The moment she uttered those few words, the urge to hold and comfort her had never been stronger. But even then, you held back. Because you're cool, aloof, cold-hearted, indifferent Uchiha Sasuke, and Uchiha Sasuke never holds, let alone comforts anyone. Especially if that anyone happens to be **her**.

She stays in the room for a few more moments, and though she is looking down at the ground, causing her coral tresses to cover her face, you can tell she looks crestfallen and ready to cry and scream and let it all out. But she holds back.

Slowly, she moved her feet, moving soundlessly out of the room, leaving you on your own.

And, the most painful fact was that she didn't say another word.

And all you can do now is wallow in your self pity, knowing that she'll believe this lie. That you never needed her, let alone loved her, when really, the truth was that you did. That you needed her more than life itself—that you loved her more than life itself.

But, she can never know. And the only thing you can feel comforted by, is that she will never be hurt from this love. That she'll be protected, because she didn't deserve to put her life at risk for a bastard like you. She was precious, _needed_—you **aren't**.

You don't deserve her. You're evil, and lower than trash for abandoning her. But, she and the rest of Konoha still stuck by you stubbornly.

You can feel your eyes itching, almost as though you were about to cry. But Uchiha Sasuke never cries, so for that reason you hold back. Because you're cool, aloof, cold-hearted, indifferent Uchiha Sasuke and you _never_ cry and _nothing_ can change that fact.

Nothing at all.

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_At the end of the day, the only reason why I am a hero is because I protect her in my own way. It may not be the best __way and it might bring her a lot of pain, but at least she'll be protected. Besides, she doesn't deserve trash like me – she deserves better. But even if I think this, I still can't help but hope she'll wait for me_...

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**Review Reply**

Laura-chan**: Same! (too much incest is…dodgy – I only like older brother younger sister and I've seen the first episode of angel sanctuary –couldn't be bothered to watch the rest XD–) Yep, HadesPersephone (love it)!**

Eyezue66613**: thank you! And I'm not really peeved about that, I just got disturbed thinking about Sasuke being Sakura's uncle (WHICH WILL NEVER HAPPEN –I hope–)**

S-makn**: I know, it freaks me out, thinking of Sasuke as Sakura's uncle –insert shudders– and yeah, I like incest a 'lil bit XD lol don't worry I get what you mean with the whole uncle/aunt thing (even if I'm not an aunt). And yeah, it was cute – kidnapping a pink haired girl and marrying her and comforting her in your own deranged way (!) lol sorry couldn't help it. And I guess it suits Sasuke too make him repeat himself lol **

Sakura the luver**: aww thanks!**

NorthernLights25**: oh I thought the HadesPersephone myth was well-known :s oh well, thanks anyway!**

Reader713**: lol I have, had to study them at school XD and I dunno, I might, MIGHT make a happy sequel. I'm not too sure – just don't get pissed off if I don't (and there's a 75 percent chance I won't – SORRY!)**

MintiNeko**: aw thanks! Lol I know about the whole god and goddess marrying into their own family (gods and goddesses are pretty strange). Lol don't worry – I've taken it out (it did sound weird).**

Ctc13love4mommy**: Thank you!**

Lizzpercush**: Lol it probably is (sorry about that – I'll change it when I can be bothered, which will be when I get the time to, which will probably be never because I have to revise and do all that crap!) Anyways, before I start rambling on and on about the crappiness of tests, thank you!**

Avalache1**: Awww thank you XD**

**Review please, they make me grin manically.**

**(Well, the good ones do. As for flames, I don't really care. Go ahead, flamers—flame if you bored, I don't give a damn (!)**


	6. Beautiful dawn

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**TITLE:** Beautiful dawn  
**AUTHOR:** Sakuraxkisu/Nightbeautyx  
**FANDOM:** Naruto  
**PAIRING:** Uchiha Sasuke/Haruno Sakura  
**GENRE: **Gen.  
**TABLE:** #5 Light  
**PROMPT:** #12 Peace  
**RATING:** **T**  
**WORD COUNT:** 664 words  
**SUMMARY:** I broke your heart once when I left. I broke it again when I came home. This time, I'll heal your heart.  
**NOTES:** Sasuke's POV. Hope it's not too OOC—oh and I hope it's fluffy enough!  
**DISCLAIMER:** The anime/manga series 'Naruto' belongs Masashi Kishimoto, nor do I own the song "I'll be your home" by Oikawa Rin or the song "High" by James Blunt.

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_Beautiful dawn, I'm just chasing time again._

Thought I would die a lonely man, in endless night.

But now I'm high;

Running wild among all the stars above.

Sometimes it's hard to believe you remember me...

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Her soft, coral tresses are draped over her face and neck, a few strands moving slightly with each time she inhales the fresh air softly.

A small, but vibrant morsel of light is peeking through the curtains, shining down on her face, as though she was an angel. As though she was the light, slightly dim, but still shining stubbornly in a place filled with endless darkness.

Her breathing is soft, her chest rises and falls softly. Her plump, soft pink lips, the ones you had bitten and ran your tongue over so much from the addictive taste of cherry blossoms and innocence that you once possessed, are open slightly, inhaling and exhaling.

Her scent is intoxicating**—**you dip your nose into the endless river of pink and savour the fresh fragrance of cherry blossoms melded with strawberries and cherries.

You feel a sudden urge to shake her awake and stare into those vibrant, exuberant, energetic jade irises, sparkling with curiosity and happiness. But you don't**—**just the mere glimpse of her fair skinned face and expertly-chiseled features is enough.

Her small, strangely calloused hand is still clutched in your own hand**—**it surprises how calloused her hands are; you would've expected them to be soft, just like her cheeks and fair skin. But, they weren't**—**they had been hardened from all those chakra-induced fists and healing wounds. But, this made him feel strangely happy**—**to know that she had blossomed into a strong both in will and actual body strength, warm-hearted woman.

You feel something move against you**—**her slim, small arm moves against your chest, the warmth leaving the area her arm had first rested on, the warmth moving to another area of his chest. You savour this warmth of another person; another person you love and cherish.

A familiar, peach coloured face enters your mind, onyx orbs filled with warmth and compassion, her smile warm and earnest**—**the face of your mother. You let a small smile appear on your face, knowing she wouldn't be able to see you. Her warmth always manages to bring back nostalgic memories of when you were a small child and your mother used to hug you.

You're surprised to feel a small hand on your back, bringing warmth to your back. Everything about is small, you think**—**her fingers, her hands, her face, her neck, her body, her feet, everything. Excluding her heart and brain, you think to yourself, one side of your lips stretching upwards arrogantly.

Soft roseate tresses tickle your bare chest, as you stare at the head lying against your chest; you make out the shape of her nose, small and chiseled to perfection, and those same, soft, addictive lips. You lick your own lips, almost predatorily, thinking of that one moment, where your tongue sensuously danced with hers, saliva mixing into a single, hot liquid of passion and love.

You move your body further down the bed, so you're face to face with her.

Her saccharine-tasting lips are slightly open, exhaling warm, fresh, sweet-smelling air to your own face; coral tresses disheveled, but framing her round, heart-shaped face to perfection. She looks ethereal.

A soft crease forms in the small gap between her two eyebrows. You notice a few coral coloured strands around her eyelids and realization dawns on you**—**she's ticklish around her eyelids.

You feel one corner of your lips stretch upwards at this new piece of information, as you move your hand towards her eyelids, enjoying the feel of her soft skin against your palms, moving the strands away. The creases dissipate into smooth ivory skin and that expression of calmth reappears her face.

And with that, you continue to stare at your recent wife's face, taking in her ethereal beauty, as the sun continued to rise. Because whenever you stare at her**—**whenever you focus your full attention on her, you could finally come to terms with this life you've been given and move on, feeling content.

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_Every precious time,_

_Let it go somewhere away_

_You will learn and you'll love_

_Forgive the past_

_And you can move on…_

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**Short but sweet…? Short but ****fluffy****. I guess. I really love the song 'I'll be your home'—it's sweet, fluffy and SASUSAKU-ish! Yeeeesh, I know, I've been writing angst and depressing fanfics, (BUT ANGST IS ADDICTIVE) sooo…yah—the next oneshot should be humour and fluffy and rainbows and sunshine and rabbits and lollypops and strawberry bubblegum and lovehearts (OMG INSPIRATION)! I hope.**

…**MOVINGON.**

**(REVIEW REPLIEZZZZZZZZ)**

S-makn**: Well, I guess that's just the bitter irony of it all. That even if you love someone and they love you back, you still can't, because you're afraid to hurt that person. I DUNNO, I haven't fallen in love so I can't really empathise. I'm glad you liked it!**

TennantFangirl**: Phew, I thought that I might've made him OOC-ish by accident :s awww thank you!**

Laura-chan**: Aww thanks! You review made me smile.**

Sakura the lover**: thank you!**

NorthernLights28**: LOL I dunno, I might, MIGHT make a sequel. Thanks anyways!**

**Review?**


	7. A distant dream turned into a nightmare

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**TITLE:** A distant dream turned into a vivid nightmare  
**AUTHOR:** Sakuraxkisu  
**FANDOM:** Naruto  
**PAIRING:** Uchiha Sasuke/Haruno Sakura  
**GENRE:** Gen.  
**TABLE: **#5 Light  
**PROMPT:** #3 kisses  
**RATING:** **T  
WORD COUNT:** 703 words  
**SUMMARY:** He was no Claudio or Romeo; he was Uchiha Sasuke.  
**NOTES:** Slightly OOC.  
**DISCLAIMER:** The anime/manga series Naruto are the property of Masashi Kishimoto.

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When he kisses her for the first time, she doesn't feel happiness.

She doesn't feel any sense of joy within her—she doesn't feel closure, or any sort of feeling of compassion bursting within her.

(_He makes not a sound, only boring holes within her fragile, delicate heart—she feels his face moving closer and closer to her—subtly and unnoticeable, she leans back, trying to create some sort of shield, to take him faraway from her as though he were contaminated with an incurable disease_)

She wasn't stranded in a state of euphoria like she wished she would've been.

(_His body feels heavy, numbing her frail, motionless legs—his arms outstretch, calloused digits and palms landing right beside her face—panicked jade orbs dart to each hand; ivory digits linger right by her face, agonisingly close, yet not touching—she feels as though her heart is being torn apart by him_)

He wasn't even truly loving like she had wanted him to be, only feigning the image of loving and affection—he didn't breathe sweet kisses of affection upon the curve of her cheek all the way down to her neck; he didn't whisper words, lyrical sentences of his undying affection for her, like the Shakespearian hero she had wished for in those visions she dreamt of upon star-dappled nights.

(but he was no Claudio or Romeo—He was _Uchiha Sasuke_)

(_she feels his breath fanning over her face, her nose, her ears, her lips—warm, humid and crisp, tickling her ivory flesh and senses; the mild scent of wood, forest leaves and mud-caked grass mixed with perspiration lingers, hanging in the air like an unwanted thick sheet of fog, strangely seductive_

"_Sakura," He breathes into her ear, throaty and deep in resonance, causing chills to travel up and down her spine, "Sakura…"_

_She desperately wishes to the Gods and seven heavens that she could move her head to the side with courage and strength, but even so, she is still rendered immobile, her muscles and bones taut and tense beneath his large, muscular body_)

The first time Sasuke kissed her, it was beyond her dreams—and beyond her nightmares.

(_his lips press against her own in that fleeting moment—his lips remain against her own, shuffling and moving restlessly against hers; they feel strangely soft and tender, moving in almost affectionate manner, but she knows better—he would never fall in love with her_)

It felt wrong, immoral—she felt disgusted, dirty, tainted.

(_tainted by the avenger—used by the avenger, as though she were a mere china doll, lingering in the corner, prettied up and shining radiantly, only to be broken down again by the one person she was prettied up for_)

He wasn't in love with her—he was using her. Exploiting her trust in him—taking advantage of her unrequited, one-sided love for him—using her pure, unadulterated trust, friendship and sheer love for him to his advantage, as though he were playing a game—and if he used her, he'd get extra points.

(_she can't move—her body isn't under her control anymore; all she does is stay beneath him, still and unmoving—she feels as though she's choking, but makes no protest, while his lips linger against her own, soft and tender, a chaste kiss, sealed with a statement sworn with conviction, but simultaneously indifference and apathy_)

He would never fall in love with her. This much she knew.

(his lips suddenly withdraw from her own and she is still panicking—her mind is in a state of panic—her heart is in a state of hurt, pained by this one man and breaking into smaller fragments by every passing second he allows his body inch closer and closer to her own)

And she would never stop loving him. Her love would be her own downfall, it would be the cause of her demise—after all, her love was her weakness.

(_"Marry me," he murmurs into her ear, a command but not a question and for that, she feels her heart shatter into millions of fragments at that very moment in time—her eyes welling up with tears, tears she had refused to shed—only now would these tears be shed_)

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_She closes her eyes and dreams,_

_Of a place with fairies and wizards,_

_Of a place with red-brick castles,_

_Of a place with buildings that touched the sky._

_She opens her eyes and sees,_

_A beautiful, stunning devil before her eyes,_

_Dark, tousled mesh of midnight air,_

_Orbs of charcoal gazing at her,_

_Lips set into a grim line._

_She gasps in horror when she realises,_

_The dream has turned into a nightmare.

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**My (angst-filled) return(!)**

**I haven't updated this fanfic in ages, I know—but don't worry, there should be another update after this one ;) Oh yeah—by the way, the theme for the first oneshot will be changed to pleasure and the theme to this oneshot will become kiss—just thought I'd tell you, even though you probably don't care lol XD**

**Review Reply**

Strings of a puppet**: OMG IT'S SOAP! -glomps- You won't believe how happy ALL your reviews made me—I mean, that day I checked my email I had, like, about 6 new reviews and when I realised you were the one who was the reviewer I was squealing like a fangirl :) Ohmyword, Why oh why do I have this power of making people cry? It's depressing :( But, I'm still glad you liked my oneshots XD**

Laura-chan**: Aww, glad you liked it! I made it extra fluffy (same, I hope that when Sasuke and Sakura get together, which they will, that this will happen :)**

S-makn**: I know what you mean--because why would Sakura have soft hands if she's always punching people and training? It just doesn't make sense. And thank you :)**

TennantFangirl**: Aww, thank you:D**

Sam-AKA-SakuxSasulover**: Thank you :)**

Miko-chan**: MIKOOOOOO you flatter me TOO much. But yes, I can imagine Sasuke like this:)**

NorthernLights25**: There's a chance I won't make a sequel, but who knows! Thanks though!**

ChristinaAngel**: Awww, thank you--your review made me smile.**

**Pimping myself (how sad is that!): Oh yeah--if you like reading this anthology/LJ challenge thing, then you can read my other one, Roseate Sky! Plus, I've got a new fanfic up, Carnations in the Cold, a sasusaku and fugamiko one :)**

**Review please!**


	8. A dream unfulfilled

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**TITLE:** A dream unfulfilled  
**AUTHOR:** Sakuraxkisu/Nightbeautyx  
**FANDOM:** Naruto  
**PAIRING:** Uchiha Sasuke/Haruno Sakura  
**GENRE: **Het.  
**TABLE:** #5 Light  
**PROMPT:** #8 Together  
**RATING:** **T**  
**WORD COUNT:** 1444 words  
**SUMMARY:** And sometimes, it just gets too hard for people. Sometimes, they just give up trying in pursuit for their happy ending and live a broken life, when they could have so much more.  
**NOTES:** Listen to 'the kiss' from 'the last of the Mohicans' soundtrack when reading this. Also, I have dedicated this to YOU, _Miko-chan_:)  
**DISCLAIMER:** The anime/manga series 'Naruto' belongs Masashi Kishimoto.

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She stands outside, leaning against the metal railing. The deep, charcoal-hued metal presses into her light, ivory-hued skin—a cool, chilling sensation courses through her body, as she shivers.

(_emerald eyes delve into the fading, yet shimmering glow of the warm sun—soft hues of light pink roses streak the sky, staining the much softer shade of light aquamarine; tendrils of tangerine and mild apricot, dipped into light beige and cream move by, softly, slowly—and amidst it all, the sun burns, filled with vigour and strength, glowing over the horizon_)

It reminds her of the Leaf—of Konoha and it's proud, strong shinobi—of the burning fire within them—the way that each shinobi refused stubbornly to give in to the darkness and continued to shine, vivid and brightly, even in its twilight hours.

(_and for that, she admired Konoha—she admired the true shinobi whom were loyal to their home and proud of who they were and what they fought for—after all, it was the one reason she became a kunoichi—to have that amount of loyalty and strength_)

The soft, sweet yet incoherent song of the wind lulls her senses, bringing her body, mind and heart to a state of calm; tranquillity; serenity and contentedness.

(_a tender smile embosses her lips, when she pictures charcoal eyes within the library of her mind—encompassing—captivating and intoxicating; she loves his eyes_)

Cropped coral tresses sway in the wind, dancing some sort of sweet, stunning dance, swaying slowly with its invisible partner, a partner known as the cosmos, moving side to side and bobbing up and down. Filigreed drop earrings, glimmering soft jade, tingle in the wind, the sound entering her ears like wind chimes, soothing and sharp, yet resonate.

(_a look of joy and contentedness flickers in her eyes, jade irises twinkling and glittering with unadulterated happiness and sheer affection_)

She notices the mountain in the distance and smiles, a nostalgic smile this time—beautiful forest orbs delve into the perfectly chiselled features—pointed, aristocratic noses chiselled to perfectly—the sunlight poured over the prominent, high curve of their cheekbones—beautiful, almost painfully realistic eyes glimmering in the last, final shine of the sun.

'They all look so alike,' She thinks, tenderly and nostalgic, as she admires the hard work and sheer amount of effort poured into the sculpture of the mountain—but it was all done out of sheer affection and loyalty to Konoha and it's 5 Hokages.

(_now 6, she thinks, as she admires the last face—a whiskered face—a cheeky, childish yet utterly lovable grin embossing his lips—cerulean blue eyes sparkling with joy—a tousled mesh of sunshine and the soft, beach sand_)

"It still remains a mystery to me—how the dobe became Rokudaime," At the sound of the formal, yet silky, like charcoal velvet with the remnants of crushed pearls sprinkled over it, she lets the smile broaden. For a few, teasing moments, she pays him no heed, until she hears a grunt of annoyance.

(_she lets out a muted giggle, holding a hand to her lips like a bashful teenager, before finally acknowledging his presence_)

Pink tresses whip past her cheeks, as she faces him with a nostalgic, happy smile upon her lips.

The sleeves and ends of his pure, pearl white haori flutter, blown aback by the sudden strong gust of wind—the chilling breeze sends shivers down her spine, but she ignores it.

(_the bright, fluorescent light pours over the prominent curve of his cheekbones and shows the midnight blue tint within his hair—charcoal bangs hang over his eyes, a wry and amused look flitted in onyx orbs, tinged with partial annoyance—the wind blows at his tousled mesh of night hair, revealing the pale, ivory-hued skin of his neck_)

"Sasuke," She says, softly and lovingly, as she gazes at him with tenderness and affection. Jade eyes glisten in the fluorescent outburst of light, her skin appearing lighter and more radiant within the sun's warm glow.

(_she looks ethereal—stunning and delicate, in every small aspect—better looking than any angel, he thinks, with silent and secret admiration_)

They gaze silently at one another for a long period of time, mystified at the other's ethereal beauty and delving into each other's features, intoxicated by each other's presence.

(_they truly were a match made in heaven_)

Sasuke takes the first, tentative step towards her, pausing for a few moments in his footings, before continuing, fast yet not too fast.

(_he stops before her, the fabric of his pure haori brushing against the light muslin of her night dress—forest leaves drowning in a dark, double abyss_)

Slowly, his hand outstretches, long, slender digits outstretching towards her cheek. They land on the high curve of her cheekbone, remaining there for a few moments, before moving to cup her cheek—and even though his hand is calloused, she can't but wonder why his touch is soft and warm, when he has been through such a harsh and cold life—she revels in his warm, tender touch, shutting her eyes tightly and savouring the warmth entering her cheeks.

"You're cold," He remarks, his voice making her knees tremble and shake vigorously, though she doesn't let it show on her facial features. Smaller, ivory digits stroke longer fingers, skimming the surface of his ivory-hued skin and revelling in the wonderful touch of his skin.

(_and he, too, basks in her touch—her fingers were small and fragile; so slender, that he could break them with a harsh squeeze—_)

"Mm," She replies, too preoccupied with the wonderful sensation that followed after his touch. The wonderful sensation of loving—and being loved.

(_—the same went for her heart—that was why he wished to clasp his fingers over hers and protect her)_

The soft, soothing wind whips tresses of pitch black and dusty pink aback, soft coral strands melding with deep charcoal wisps.

(_the incoherent melody echoed in her ears, sweet, soft and soothing—lulling her senses and relaxing her body posture—a soft sound of joy escapes her lips, as she lets her eyes close tightly—_)

"Come back inside, Sakura," He murmurs into her ear, softly, tenderly. And even though it fills her to brim with happiness, she can't help but acknowledge the pain and heartache that followed. It was perfect—Sasuke loved her—Naruto was Hokage. It was perfect.

(_too bad it was just a dream—_)

She tries to savour the feeling—savour the moment, but even so, she cannot. She shuts her eyes, and tries to savour the sensation that follows, but she cannot—she feels her eyes welling up with tears.

"Just a few more minutes, Sasuke…" the tears begin to drip down her cheeks and he is there to wipe them away.

(—_a dream that would be left unfulfilled—for now and forever…_)

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_Sometimes I ask myself, why should I chase after him? Why should I go after him, when all he'll do is run further and faster than I'll ever be able to? Sometimes, I just wonder whether it is worth it or not--because at the end of the day, even if I do love him, we, as a team, as friends_—

_(as lovers)_

_—we will never be the same as we were before._

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When Sakura wakes up, her vision is blurry. Droplets of crystalline saline slide down her cheeks easefully—dripping off her nose—entering her lips.

(_the taste of salt lingers upon her tongue—bitter and pungent_)

Even so, she swings her legs easefully off the soft mattress, her legs and arms shivering as the cold attacks her—shakily and slowly, she walks towards the mirror.

(_she wipes away tears with the back of her hand and glances again at the mirror—her reflection enters her eyes; dishevelled pink hair, thin and bland; glassy green eyes, glazed over; linen pale skin, with a light flitted over the bob of a tear droplet leaking out of her eye_)

She wipes the droplet away and shuts her eyes, trying to find some comfort—trying to find that sweet sensation—

(_"You're cold," He remarks—she feels his digits stroking her cheek, tenderly and affectionately and it breaks her heart because he acts like he _is_ affectionate, like he _is_ tender when she knows he will never be tender or affectionate_)

—but all she finds is the bitter after feeling from her dreams of happiness.

(_"Come back inside, Sakura," He murmurs into her ear, softly, tenderly_)

The remnants of her dreams come back to her like sharp shards of glass, protruding her heart and soul endlessly, leaving before returning tenfold.

(_She feels his digits stroke her face and she revels in his touch—too bad it was just a dream_)

And before she knows it, she finds herself crouching on the ground, arms wrapped tightly around her knees as she cradles herself, tears leaking out of tightly shut eyes.

"Sasuke-kun…" She sobs, "…Why do you torture me?"

(_another question that is better left unanswered, she thinks bitterly_)

"Sasuke-kun…"

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* * *

**And you (probably) thought it would've been a happy oneshot. Sorry to disappoint everyone!**

**(I'll try and make the next oneshot happy, I swear!)**

**Anyways, I hope all, if not, some of you lot got the "squint-and-you'll-see-the-Shakespeare-line". If not, I'll give you a clue—it's a line from Much Ado About Nothing.**

**(but I don't think any of you will be bothered to look for it, so you can ignore it if you want)**

**Anyways, please review!**


	9. The day

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**TITLE:** The Day  
**AUTHOR:** Sakuraxkisu/Nightbeautyx  
**FANDOM:** Naruto  
**PAIRING:** Uchiha Sasuke/Haruno Sakura  
**GENRE: **Gen.  
**TABLE:** #5 Light  
**PROMPT:** #10 Life  
**RATING:** **T**  
**WORD COUNT:** 4259 words  
**SUMMARY:** It's almost tragic. Almost.  
**NOTES:** When reading, can you listen to the song 'If I could be where you are' by Enya. Also, it isn't that romantic, and it mainly focuses on the remnants of team 7.  
**DISCLAIMER:** The anime/manga series 'Naruto' belongs to Masashi Kishimoto.

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* * *

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**i. dawn**  
_trying to wish it didn't hurt like this_

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* * *

Eyes of azure and sapphire, of deep, turquoise and teal oceans gaze out the window pane, staring at the scenery with a thoughtful and jaded glimmer. 

Soft, wisps of damask rose blare across the sky, reminding him of damask rose petals—they fade into softer, airy yet glistening tendrils of light apricot and peach gleam. Soft specks of barely visible blue dapple the puddle of apricot and damask rose.

(_it__'__s the beginning of another day, he muses, another day without you__—_)

He is up much earlier today. He doesn't know why—he just is.

Pale linen bedsheets are splayed across his mattress, hanging off his bed. Empty, hollow boxes of week-old ramen rest on the floor—

(_empty, hollow__—__just how he feels, after the taste of exotic spices and warm meat leave his tongue and mouth; sometimes, he can__'__t help but wonder why this comfort eating hasn__'__t made him end up with obesity_)

—the figure of several flies flicker and flash, moving around the boxes.

(_he lets out a sigh, hoarse and exasperated__—__he really did need to clean his bedroom_)

He pulls his gaze away from the window, and looks down at the carpet—the pale chartreuse carpet is specked and dappled with deep stains of amber and light burgundy.

(_a glimmer of pain flashes through his eyes__—__he is stabbed by the bitter dagger of life, laced with irony and heartbreak_)

His fingers find themselves knotted tightly in a mesh of sunshine and summer air—the sharp edges of the bones of his elbow ram into his knees, but he ignores the throb of pain.

(_after all, it__'__s nothing__—__nothing compared to what he has to go through everyday_)

He sighs again, and remains in his position—maybe he should've just let himself succumb to the sweet feeling of eternal slumber.

(_but __"__eternal slumber__"__ is just wishful thinking—something you could only wish for_)

And, sometimes, he wished for eternal slumber—so he wouldn't have to go on with another day of being strong, persistent and stubborn—because sometimes, it just hurt too much for him to even try continuing—the pain was almost unbearable, all to the point he began to wonder why he even bothered.

(_but that is when he thinks of Sasuke—he thinks of his childhood—he thinks of Sakura and everyone precious to him—that is when he realizes he has a mission; to protect his team-mates; to become Hokage; to rescue Sasuke_)

And because of this mission, he continues.

* * *

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**ii. morning**  
_bright and early for the daily races, going nowhere, going nowhere_

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* * *

The sky was a radiant, vivid, yet soft blue. 

(_blue like ice, like aqua__—__cold, harsh and unrelenting, though undeniably ethereal and beautiful__—__appearances always were deceiving, he muses half-heartedly with a wry half-smirk embossing his hidden lips at the ironic analogy_)

The morning sun is bright, blindingly vivacious—burning and gleaming like melted gold; like sparkling champagne that only the rich could afford—heating everything and anything in sight, as thought it were the hearth of world.

(_which it is, he muses__—__the smirk lingers_)

The dappled shade of the weeping willow above him is acting as a shield—the branches looming over him, almost protectively.

(_the darkness is beckoning him, slowly, softly__—__but he has learned the ancient art of self-control__—__one that Sasuke could never have learned, being the power-hungry Uchiha he was and always shall be, he muses__—__the corners of lips stretch broadly at this harsh, ironic fact of life_)

He lazily diverts his gaze away from the foliage and picturesque scenery around him—a lone grey, light charcoal orb, twinkling and glimmering with a whirlwind of emotions, none decipherable, gazes at the tough, worn out slate-grey stone.

(_birds chirp, chanting their incoherent, yet strangely lulling melody__—__bitter, like a fusion of honey and marmalade, but sweet and mild, like the juice of freshly grown sugarcanes and the sweetness only found in fruits, refreshing and cool_)

A mesh of viridian embosses the ash-grey stone, thick patches and soft specks of forest sheen dappling the deep, charcoal-hued stone.

(_the stone reminds him of rain droplets, dropping on him like needles laced with the poison of life and bitterness, stinging and pricking him with each passing second__—__dark, steel-grey wisps of clouds going unnoticed by the huge world around them, melding and unifying with the equally ash-stricken sky__—__the soft crying, weeping of a child, a child he once knew, a child he once was__—__a child hidden in his mind, never revealed to the world_)

Strong, calloused digits clench unconsciously, fisting the toughened fabric of his apparel. He would never be able to encompass that child—he will never become that child.

(_even if that child shall stay with him__—__even if the child will play a part in haunting him like an unwanted ghost, just as his friends do in every dream he has_)

He does nothing—only gazing at the deep, grey stone, memorizing the strict curves of the name embossed into the stone.

(_this warrior isn__'__t so empty, he thinks with a wry half-smirk__—__but the bitter stab of life within his heart is already reopening__—__a scar that no one has been able to heal__—__a scar that no one shall be able to heal_)

* * *

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**iii. midday**  
_'__said i love you like the stars above, i__'__ll love you __'__till i die_

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* * *

She wanders down the hallway—arms moving elegantly from side to side. Pink tresses thrash about in the air, moving from side to side. 

(_for a split second, jade eyes glimmer with annoyance, but the looks fade into a pond of unreadable green__—__so much for being the window into her heart, but what can I say, she has learned from the best_)

Her jaded gaze darts to white-washed door—the white of the door is almost blindingly bright. Almost.

(_for a fleeting moment, she feels like she is living her last seconds__—__and she rejoices, because she is tired and jaded from chasing him, and all she wants to do is rest and close her eyes and never have to open them again__—_)

She slows in her footings, when the number on the door becomes visible—**237**. A poignant moment starts and ends just as it began, fleeting and fugacious, but nevertheless, is still painful.

(_—__but then she realizes that _no_, her time has not come yet__—__she will have to wait another eternity; one for him and one for herself_)

The pain comes rushing back to her, but she swallows and puts on her strong, firm look, just like her teachers do.

(_inhale, exhale, inhale__—__she hesitates for a stretched, pregnant moment__—__inhale, exhale__—__slender, ivory-hued digits gingerly outstretch, reaching towards the handle of the door_)

The grip her palm and digits have upon the handle linger for another pregnant pause—she takes a deep, before twisting the handle, painfully slowly, until she hears that click that tells her _it__'__s time_.

The door creaks softly, moving open easefully. She glanced at the small gap between the door and wall—the whole room appeared pure, pearl white.

(_for a fleeting moment, she thought she was entering the doorway to heaven__—_)

The door moved wider, revealing the windows and cheap plants that no one watered.

(_—__but she knew she very well that it was just wishful thinking_)

She stepped inside the room, the pungent scent of the hospital still tickling her nose—the scent made her cringe inwardly.

(_the walls were a pale, gleaming magnolia in the sunlight__—__the sound of her footsteps echoed in the room, reverberating in her ears__—__a figure lay hidden underneath thick, white linen bedsheets, grey blue eyes gazing lazily into space_)

"Konichiwa, Matsuya-san," She greets with a false chipper tone, putting on a fake smile, one she had learned to put on skillfully, from experience, "How have you been feeling?"

(_a look of skepticism flickers through the man__'__s eyes for a fugacious moment, but it only changes back to his regular jaded glimmer_)

The man straightens up in the bed, his facial features possessing a look of boredom.

(_jaded, weary, lacklustre__—__impatient, though he still remains patient, for the day he will pass; she holds back a bitter smile__—__that was one thing the two of them had in common_)

"Ill," He deadpans unenthusiastically, gazing at her through half-lidded eyes.

(_eye of aqua and grey ice gaze at her all-knowingly__—__he knows what she__'__s been through and what she is about to go through_)

She makes no reply, because the words don't come to mind. The false smile fades away, her lips move into a straight, grim line—as did her chipper and cheerful façade.

Her eyes darted across the room, landing on the small table beside the hospital bed— an old photo frame rests upon the table.

(_jade eyes narrow in on the photo, curious and inquisitive__—__she makes out the figure of a young girl with vivacious blonde hair and light aqua eyes glistening with happiness__—__her lips are stretched into a broad grin, her legs dangling carelessly from the lap of a man__—__he, too, is smiling, softly and tenderly, his arms wrapped around her waist, dark strands of sunshine falling onto his forehead_)

Unconsciously, she walks towards the photo frame, causing the man to raise an eyebrow in curiosity.

(_she momentarily is mesmerized by the photo__—__by the sheer amount of happiness and joy radiating from the photo; it reminds her of a photo she dreams of every night she sleeps, every night she ever does get sleep_)

She stops in the front of the desk—ivory-white flesh glistens in the sunlight, as slim digits reach out to pick up the photo frame.

(the frame is made of rosewood—her senses are contented, as the sweet mild fragrance of roses enter her nostrils—she notices that his fourth digit is adorning a shining, radiant silver-grey ring)

"Is this—" She begins, but he cuts her off.

"_My daughter_? Yes," His voice sounds exasperate, as though he had told this same fact to everyone, as though he had gotten tired of repeating himself over and over again.

She remains quiet, her pink tresses swaying in the soft, cool wind entering through the window.

(_it was poignant, pensive moment__—__images of herself, the young child she once was, the young girl she longed to become, along with her two other team-mates, and Kakashi-sensei__—__she feels her lips stretch into a bittersweet smile, for a few moments, to the man__'__s curiosity, but it only lingers for a few more seconds, before returning back to a slim line_)

"Her name was Akemi," He begins, softly and tenderly. She could tell that he was smiling, even if she couldn't see his face—it was in the tone of his voice.

(_a fitting name, she thinks with a secret smile, glancing at girl's bright, sparkling aqua irises, gleaming and glowing in the old photo—it was almost as though her eyes were bringing the photo to life_)

But regardless of her emotions and the depression she feels, she smiles too—a soft, pensive smile, sweet and tender, yet bitter and strong.

"She was four years of age at the time—it was just after the death of fourth," His voice was soft and sweet, filled with joy, yet the undertone of poignance and heartache was still there, hiding and drowning in the man's happiness.

"Only after a month that photo was taken, she…disappeared," The hurt was decipherable within his voice—the years of melancholy and heartbreak he had to go through, knowing he'd never see the one person who mattered most to him, just like herself—green eyes glistened with the same look of hurt—she felt her heart go out to him.

(_after all, he was just a frail, old man now, left on his own, with no relatives, with no sense of happiness, with no true home—just the bitter thought of knowing that will never feel alive again_)

"I spent days, nights, searching for her—trying to keep an ear open, in case I heard her giggling," he let out a hoarse, throaty chuckle from the small comment, smiling bitterly, "Days turned to months, and months to years. And eventually, after a few years, I gave up. 'Never seen her since."

She made no sound, only gazing deeply at the worn out photo in the rosewood frame. Her face expression is void of emotion.

(_but, a glimmer resides in her eyes—a glint of depression, heartache and melancholy—her eyes truly were the window to her heart_)

Birds chirped, lulling their senses to a deep slumber—they remain frozen in the positions and poignance, pensive emotions lingered.

(_they had a lot in common—it was almost tragic, how similar they were_)

They share the silent, poignant moment together, silently and subtly empathizing with one another.

* * *

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**iv. afternoon**  
_and it makes me wonder, the older i get, will i get over it?_

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* * *

"_Rasengan_!" He screams loudly, his voice hoarse and throaty, as though he has yelled this word dozens of times. Sparks of aqua, liquid and silver fly everywhere, floating in the air, as the replication of himself is frozen, rooted to a single patch of grass. 

(_the swirling orb of silver and aqua rams into his replication__—__azure eyes sparkle with shock and surprise, but the moment is fleeting__—__soon, the whole replication dissipates into thin air, leaving a thick cloud of magnolia-grey smoke in it__'__s stead_)

His breathing is loud and ragged, his body posture tense and stiff, as he watches the smoke clear.

(_when he sees nothing, he takes this a good sign__—__a sign telling him that everything is over, that it__'__s alright__—__that he can relax__—__and he is relieved_)

The replication beside him, too, disappears with puff, leaving another thick cloud of dusty magnolia and cream in its stead.

(_the moment is stretched and lasts for longer than it should__'__ve__—__but, soon, after a long period of time, he finds himself standing in a summery, scorching oasis, in a state _)

He lets out a deep sigh of relief and fatigue, before finally allowing himself to relax—his shoulders slump forwards, azure eyes closed tightly—the sharp, stinging pain in his eyes eases, fading into a sweet feeling of tranquillity—he can't help but relish and revel in the alien feeling.

(_his knees continue to shake, shivering, as though they can__'__t take anymore pain_)

And finally, he allows the pain and fatigue to encompass his senses, his stubborn mind, body and heart—his knees buckle.

(_and he freefalls to the grass, millions of viridian wisps glimmering the vivid, golden and tangerine glow of the sun_)

His legs hit the ground, scraping against the grass and bruising his skin—a hissing pain surges throughout his shins and skin, but he ignores it.

(_dark, long, slender spikes of tawny brown eyelashes rest against radiant, glistening bronze skin, tinged with perspiration and sweat__—__deep, ragged breaths escape his thin lips__—__his chest is filled with something, something he doesn__'__t know of and is almost choking him_)

Slender, bronze-hued digits clench the grass, wrapping tightly around dozens of viridian tendrils. Soft ripping noises enter his ear, as the tendrils become loose.

(_his breathing is still loud and guttural__—__ragged__—__exhausted and drained, from the tough training he undergoes every day he can_)

But, even as his body undergoes the tremors of fatigue, the shivers from the chilling breeze colliding with his heated flesh, the deep ache of his muscles and the sharp sting of his cuts and bruises, he feels some sweet sense of relief, and for that, he allows himself to relax.

(_because, in knowing that his body is in pain and overworked, he is closer to him__—__even if only one little step closer, he is still a bit closer to him__—__and he will do everything in his power to find him_)

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**v. sunset**  
_these dreams of which i'm dying are the best i've ever had_

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* * *

He stares out at the sky, at the different hues of pink, orange—at the fusion of all sorts of colours. 

(_sunset, he thinks, it__'__s the sunset__—__they represent the sunset; ambiguous, unknown and confused__—__yet strangely beautiful_)

Tendrils of dusty, soft pink, frail damask roses, lifeless and hollow, yet as stunning as ever, meld into ripples of pale puddles of orange—soft flecks of pale, yet vivid blue dapple the sky, floating about and mixing with the hued sky.

(_a final, surprisingly strong source of light bursts over the horizon, flowing across the greenery and lighting the land with all it__'__s might__—__stubborn and persistent__—__refusing to let the world give into the darkness_)

The corners of his lips quirk—it was an ironic analogy.

(_images of three children; gleaming jade eyes, brilliant and beautiful, yet a window into her fragile heart; vivid, almost too vivid, orange jumpsuit; a dark mesh of night sky and air__—__his team; it was just plain ironic_)

He sighs into his mask—his lips are stretched into a wry smile, beneath the navy mask. Because it's just too ironic.

(_and he wonders__—__were they like that? Were they always trying to save me? Images of his old team flickers in his mind__—__a pain like no other, a pain he has experienced for so long, it protrudes his strong, steady walls of personal protection and stabs him straight through the heart_)

He sighs again, letting himself submerge into the moment of melancholy for all but a few, simple fleeting moments.

(_and this time the corner of his lips lift, he feels no amusement, only the bitter stab of life and death and loving__—__for not being able to save his own team_)

Maybe that was why he wishes to help his own team. So they don't break apart—so not one of them is left, like an empty, hollow warrior—only filled with some sort of dark and twisted excitement by reading a cliché x-rated novel series. Like himself.

(_was I the cause of their deaths? he wonders for the umpteenth time, but he cannot say__—__it was just another unanswered question__—__one that was best left unanswered_)

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**vi. night**  
_oh yeah, you know i used have this thing with him_

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* * *

A dim light spills across the room, highlighting small items and bits and bobs—small, glimmering trinkets she bought only for their cheap, yet undeniable beauty—just a fistful of pretty nothings—trinkets that'd never mean a thing. 

(_it was a bad habit of hers__—__one she told herself over and over again to get rid of__—__but the crushed pearls dipped in gleaming milk, and the multi-coloured, neon bright sequins, and the damask rose wisps of cotton ribbon, tied into neat, picturesque bows__—__all of them made it that much harder and she just couldn__'__t resist__—__a wry, wistful, half-grin pulls upon her light, mild roseate lips, and she thinks, I really am a typical girl__—__I__'__m not special_)

Soft rose-hued lips quiver, the half-grin slowly shaping into a scrunched, contorted line.

(_she wants to cry and scream__—__she wants to feel the bitter, melancholic sense of satisfaction that followed from releasing her emotions, but she won__'__t__—__she can__'__t__—__not now, anyway_)

Dusty teal irises dart to her right, ink black eyelashes, damp and clumped together, fluttering for a fleeting, fugacious moment. Eyes of the forest foliage, and deep, crisp summer leaves delve into the windowpane, and the view beyond.

(_it looks like a work of art, something that could__'__ve been painted by that asshole Sai__—__a soft, small yet wry grin graces her lips__—__just a normal, plain canvas, with thick ink black paint spilled all across it, splattered at every small part of the canvas__—__little specks of soft, dusty white and silver dapple the canvas_)

'It looks so beautiful,' She thinks with admiration, in awe at something soft simplistic, yet so beautiful, 'So scenic—picturesque.'

(_she feels her vision blurring with in a pool of bitter, salty saline__—__long, slender spikes of ash and soot lower, damp and sticking together in thick clumps, casting a thick, dusty ash grey shadow across the high bob of her cheekbones_)

She finally notices a wooden, cheap frame, set in front of her, positioned on her lap. The cool, mahogany hued wood grazes the smooth surface of her thighs, sending chills throughout her legs. She can feel chills rippling through the tips of her toes.

(_dusky pools of jadeite delve into the photo the frame adorned__—__she can make out four figures__—__vivid, mild coral tresses__—__bright, azure and sapphire hued eyes, holding a grumpy, reluctant glimmer__—__eyes of soot and ash, dipped in smooth ink, reflected the blue eyes emotion__—__a thick, tousled mesh of sparkling, silver grey hair_)

Orbs of ripened, sweet apples and soft, smooth jade stones widen in realization—images of that day flicker in her mind, different images of all four of them flashing in the library of her mind. She can still hear voices, distant, distorted, but they're still there, hidden under thick layers of heartache and melancholy, in her mind.

(_she thinks of what could__'__ve been__—__what they could__'__ve been__—__as a team__—__as friends__—__and even though she knew it__'__d never happen, as lovers_)

But, of course, this was Sasuke. And it meant nothing to him. Every moment they spent together, every joke, every word, every smile, every action, made out of goodwill and sincerity—it meant nothing to him.

(_sometimes, she wonders why she and Naruto strive so hard to bring him back__—__sometimes, she wonders why they don__'__t leave him there__—__it was where he wanted to be__—__but then, she remembers all the times they spent together, all the times she spent worrying over him, all the times she spent trying to become stronger and stronger__—__she wouldn__'__t let it go to waste_)

It was painful, thinking of him—she could feel her heart clenching, a fist tightly encompassing her heart, squeezing tighter and tighter with every passing second—dusky jade eyes shut tightly, strewn with melancholy and sorrow, the tips of her clumped, thick eyelashes grazing the smooth surface of her skin. She can already feel her warm, stinging droplets of saline seep out of her tightly shut eyes.

(_it stung her__—__it hurt her__—__the poignant, pensive feeling__—__the bitter sensation of loss; of losing someone you came to love more than the skies, the seven heavens, the sun and the lord above__—_)

The crisp night air, streaked with soot, ash and smooth ink, was reminiscent of him—of those dark, glimmering obsidian pools that had captivated her and stolen her heart, filled with a countless number of enigmas—of those soft strands of sable and panther's fur, of that soft, tousled mesh of thick, smooth ink and night air, crisp yet smooth—painfully smooth.

(_—__and, of loving that person forever, for infinity_)

Her lips contorted, quivering—tears rushed out of tightly shut eyelids, thick, damp sable eyelashes sticking together in messy, thick clumps. Bittersweet, saline tears stained her cheeks, sliding down her cheeks—warm, stinging—pricking her skin like a thousand, poison-covered needles.

(_she lets out a strangled noise of pain, sobbing quietly__—__she was crying him a river, silently and obediently__—__and she couldn__'__t stop herself__—__because no matter how strong she strove to become, she would never stop herself from shedding these tears_)

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It is another, bright blue day. The beginning of a new day. The start of a new life, of a sweet, soft tender baby, delicate and beautiful, for some people.

The start of a new friendship—two people, smiling and laughing, talking animatedly about their life, about their stories or their own faults, in hope of being reassured, that no, they are good people, and they have good lives.

The start of a life with a soulmate—the tying of two people's lives and destinies—two people made in heaven for each other, two people suited for each other.

The start of a new season—of spring, summer, autumn, or winter.

The start of innocence, naïveté and happiness—tenderness, sincerity and joy.

For them, however, it's the start of a new day—it's the starting point to finding their lost friend—their kindred spirit—the one they cherish so much, the one they love and treasure so much, even more than their own existence and lives.

For that person—for him, they would climb the highest peak, they soar through the sky without wings, they would wade through the deepest oceans, they would run with a speed they never knew of. For him, they would do anything.

This new day symbolizes the beginning of them training—striving for more and more strength, emotionally, mentally and physically.

This new day symbolizes a milestone in their journey—in their quest to find him. It brings them a step closer to him.

So that maybe, just maybe, that one day will arise—that one day, where they will finally be reunited with their lost one…

* * *

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_The glow of yesterday is gone,__  
__The darkness of another day arrives,__  
__And somehow,__  
__A glimmer of hope guides us in these dark times.__  
_**Fini**

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**A/N: If I'm honest, I think this is one of my best oneshots in this anthology :)**

**Oh yeah, one question: Was this oneshot angsty? Or bittersweet? Or angsty, but filled with hope? I REALLY DUNNO.**

**Anyways, here are the songs that I used for each of them.**

**Naruto: The older I get – Skillet**

**Kakashi: Mad World – Gary Jules**

**Sakura: Romeo and Juliet – Dire Straits**

**Thank you everyone who reviewed, and I'll try my hardest not to make the next oneshot angsty!**

**Other than that, please review :)**


	10. Undeserving

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**TITLE:** Undeserving  
**AUTHOR:** Sakuraxkisu/Night_beautyx  
**FANDOM:** Naruto  
**PAIRING:** Uchiha Sasuke/Haruno Sakura  
**GENRE: **Gen.  
**TABLE:** #5 Light  
**PROMPT:** #5 Home  
**RATING:** **T**  
**WORD COUNT:** 691 words  
**SUMMARY:** I shouldn't be here, I shouldn't be in this place and have the audacity to call it my home, I shouldn't be lapping up their trust and care greedily, selfishly.  
**NOTES:** Sasuke's POV. Slightly OOC on Sasuke's part.  
**DISCLAIMER:** The anime/manga series 'Naruto' belongs Masashi Kishimoto.

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* * *

There are many things in life that have been given to me, literally placed in my two hands, that I don't deserve. Some good things, but mostly bad. The bad things were the massacre, the isolation, the power from the curse seal. Out of all these things, I don't know whether having Sakura's love and Naruto's friendship was a good or bad thing.

I don't think I ever will.

What I do know, is that I deserve none of their trust.

(Sakura is asking me if I like apples peeled or with skin, bringing a sense of déjà vu to my mind—always considerate, always asking for another's opinion on even the most pettiest of things—I say nothing in return, she forces a smile—for her sake or for mine?—and still ends up peeling it—overworking to sidetrack the pain)

I don't deserve her love, her consideration for me, her willingness to sacrificing herself _for me_. Even now, I still remember what she said to me those years ago. Those words haunted me in my sleep, her face, her tears, her screams of anguish still etched so clearly in my mind.

(Naruto, that stupid idiot, is saying how badly he beat up Kiba during sparring—his strength has obviously grown since then, but then again he was always the strongest, because he had something I never did, the warmth and sincerity I'll never have—Sakura calls him an idiot after hearing that he'd broken Kiba's arm, Naruto laughs nervously and says _sorry? _Sakura laughs at him, shaking her head while muttering _I'm not the one who you should be apologising to, idiot_)

I don't deserve his friendship. I never deserved to be called his rival, because I was never up to his level. I was never good enough.

I shouldn't even be here. I shouldn't be the centre of Sakura's and Naruto's worry. I shouldn't be sat here listening to their small talk, in wonder at how natural they were when they talked. I shouldn't be given this special treatment by Sakura and even Naruto.

I shouldn't be in Konoha, or anywhere near this village. I shouldn't still be able to call this village my home.

(Naruto is saying to me _Are you even listening?_ in a frustrated voice, referring to his other escapades—he murmurs _bastard_ underneath his breath loudly, Sakura hears him without difficulty and punches him in the arm, calling him an idiot and saying to him _apologise to Sasuke-kun!_—he rubs his arm and looks down, before muttering a soft _sorry_—but it's not the fact that he's apologising for once that surprises me, it's the sincerity in one little sorry—an apology I'd probably forget about the next morning, like the ungrateful coward I am)

I should be far, far away from this village, buried somewhere beneath a gravestone in sound with the words "Traitor" etched on them.

I should be in hell, and if it doesn't exist, then I should be in place just as bad.

(Sakura say _here_, and holds the peeled apple out in her palm, the knife still in her hand, sharp and glimmering in the light—I don't offer her my hand, if I do then I might grab that knife and use it, and give myself what I truly deserve—I simply stare into space, waiting for her to retract her hand—after 30 seconds of feeling her expectant eyes on me, she places the apple in a plate and says _I'll leave it here if you're hungry later_—Naruto is pretending to be completely oblivious of what happened and continues rambling—but I can tell he is worried, but for who?)

But I am here. I am in a place that should be unfamiliar and alien because of all these years I've spent away from Konoha.

I am with my two ex-team-members, with two _strangers?_, with two familiar faces, with two old friends, with two people who are the closest living thing I can compare to a family.

I am somewhere I shouldn't be.

I am somewhere I never thought I'd end up in.

I am home.

* * *

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**A/N: Sooo. I finally updated this.**

**Only two more to go, and it'll be finished.**

**(It'll probably take me a good few months to add the next one, lol)**

**And I'll try and make the next one have some romance in it. ;) ;)**


	11. Heartbeats

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**TITLE**: Heartbeats  
**AUTHOR**: Sakuraxkisu/Night_beautyx  
**FANDOM**: Naruto  
**PAIRING**: Uchiha Sasuke/Haruno Sakura  
**GENRE**: Gen-ish.  
**TABLE**: #5 Light  
**PROMPT**: #7 Kindness  
**RATING**: **T**  
**WORD COUNT**: 470 words  
**SUMMARY**: Finally, he shall go to the place where he belongs, and be greeted with the broad smiles and the raucous laughter of his sunlit friend.  
**DISCLAIMER**: The anime/manga series 'Naruto' belongs Masashi Kishimoto.

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Sakura had always shown him kindness, a smile permanently stuck to her childlike, elfin face. Not even once could he remember a moment where she had looked upon him with scorn glimmering in her eyes, spoken to him in a sardonic tone, or even made any attempt to hurt him. On the contrary, Sakura always seemed to talk in a sincere tone to him, and her eyes only seemed to yield admiration for his exertions and appearance.

In the back of his mind, he had always simply assumed that she would remain the same as her younger self: still full of so much devotion and kindness.

He never really expected her to have changed so much.

-

"You don't deserve kindness."

"Why don't you tell me something I don't know, Sakura?"

"You will be executed in two more days for your treachery."

"I don't think you heard what I said."

"…I will be the one to carry out the execution."

-

Sea-green eyes, the eyes he thought he knew so well, stared into him. It was as though he were boring into his mind, into his soulless body, searching for some sign of purpose, some sign of life, something. Those eyes used to yield so much clarity, expressing her every feeling.

The wind disturbed the silence that had lingered between the two of them for many minutes ever since she last spoke to him.

He would never admit it to her, not even to himself, but somehow those words managed to make another crack appear in his façade of detachment, as for the first time in a long time he felt a pang of surprise, perhaps even pain.

-

"I still love you."

"…"

"That's why I will kill you. For Naruto."

(The words don't shock him so much. He knew that Sakura would seek vengeance from him, one way or another.)

There isn't anything else left for either of them to say as they leave, his wrists in shackles.

-

Sakura had always treated him with kindness. Even in her final swift motion of slitting his neck she is showing him kindness.

(he will receive his redemption in the afterlife, and will be greeted with smiles and the raucous laughter of his sunlit best friend)

-

_It is dawn, __a beautiful, sunlit dawn, when he is executed, the sky a blend of soft, pallid yellows and warm oranges. Sea green eyes blend into the soft hue of sunlight, the sound of the wind's melodic whispering ringing in his ears, dulling his senses. The blood is warm, dripping down his neck as he falls, his kneecaps scraping against the winding cobblestone road when he hits the ground._

_As he dies, a slow smile appears on his face, the morning sun greeting him with a soft glow._

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**A/N: It's been a while since I last updated, a loooooong time. I know.**

**It's quite a short one, and it isn't really the original plot I had in mind, but oh well. If there's any confusion with the plot then just ask me about it :)**

**Please review ;)**


	12. Subtlety

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**TITLE: **Subtlety  
**AUTHOR:** Sakuraxkisu/Night_beautyx  
**FANDOM:** Naruto  
**PAIRING:** Uchiha Sasuke/Haruno Sakura  
**GENRE: **Het-ish.  
**TABLE:** #5 Light  
**PROMPT:** #7 Love  
**RATING:** **T**  
**WORD COUNT:** 782 words  
**SUMMARY:** Sometimes, words aren't required.  
**DISCLAIMER:** The anime/manga series 'Naruto' belongs Masashi Kishimoto, and the song 'When the deal goes down' belongs to Bob Dylan.

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The first thing Sasuke sees when he enters the room is his girlfriend seated on the sofa, knees drawn up to her chest, crying her eyes out. For a second he is concerned, worried – but then he sees the credits appearing on the TV screen, with those familiar names of famous actors and actresses she adored, and he realises.

Her tears seem to come quicker. The sounds of her sniffling; green eyes rimmed with pallid red; fingers entwined in-between one another. She seems so pitiful, so frail.

"Here." Before he realises it himself, a tissue in his hand, his fingers holding it out towards her. She pauses in her sniffling, directing wide green eyes the shade of jade towards him.

Her features seem to lighten, a small, smile on her lips clashing with redness of her eyes.

Her voice is hoarse as she murmurs a quiet thank-you, untwines her fingers and takes hold of the tissue in his outstretched hand.

As she is wiping her cheeks free of tears, he asks why she watches this film when she has seen it already about 4 times. The smile on her face grows, as she sees the undertone of concern in his probing.

"Because it's such a beautiful film." _And because I know you'll be there to pick up the pieces._

-

Her love for him is like water, like the rain in London, always continuously pouring and never-ending. Sometimes it comes in large amounts, heavy and unrelenting; sometimes pouring lightly, gentle and soothing; sometimes wistful and in melancholy.

Despite his distant, detached mentality and the way he simply brushes her off, it would not be the same if it were any different.

-

His love for her is developing still. Everyday for him seems to bring a change, a change in the direction of his emotions. It's all in the little things, for him. How she always has and always will be there, waiting for him, unquestionably; how she trusts and depends on him; how her voice resonates, not harsh like the brazenness of his blond friend, but light, conveying so much clarity; how her green eyes express so much, the windowpane reflecting the sensations of her core; how the corner of her eyes crinkle when she smiles; the soft hitch of her voice when she laughs. The list seems to grow day by the day, along with his emotions.

-

Sometimes, she thinks, sometimes, silence can convey more clarity than words ever could.

The silence between the two of them isn't awkward; on the contrary, it is pleasant, a time where the two of them can think with a clear mind. Words are left unspoken; there is no need to try to fill the silence with pointless observations or comments. There is a mutual understanding between the two of them, something that has blossomed and been nurtured over the years, a rose in it's prime.

Sometimes, words aren't required.

-

He knows that she isn't always happy.

He knows that sometimes, her smile is hollow, her laughter filled with an uncharacteristic dolour rather than her usual vivacity. Although she may trust him, there are some things that she cannot tell him; and he, respectful of her unspoken wishes, does not force her into telling him these secrets. He has many of his own he keeps to himself also.

But despite this, he can't help but hope that she will, one day, of her own accord, tell him her problems. Until then, though, all he can do is offer her the warmth of his body to lean on at night, and pretend he is asleep while she cries.

-

Their relationship is not like that of a normal, young couple. Neither of them strive for more; neither of them seek to be enthralled and elated by the transient joys of life and love. Life does not pause for them if they argue, and resume when they reconcile. Tomorrow is another day - life resumes, petty arguments fading away into unintentional reconciliations.

They are not happy and jubilant; they aren't naïve like other couples to believe in the fleeting bursts of euphoria. They are contented with the life that has been given to them, grateful for the violet streaked sunsets; broad smiles in the springtime; the soft light of sun at dawn; light and shadows meeting and mingling upon one's arm in the hazy sunlight; the blue sky that greets them in the morning; silent, stilled moments of thinking clearly, natural and unforced.

And that unspoken phrase that lingers in the air around them as they lie together, limbs intertwined–

_And I'll be with you when the deal goes down._

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**A/N**: GAAH. I FINALLY FINISHED IT AFTER NEARLY 2 YEARS! :DD

So I noticed that a lot of these oneshots don't have happy endings, so I decided to give this one a happy-ish ending. It's not really a proper happy ending, more of a contented one. The actual oneshot isn't very clear, I know. I was experimenting when I was writing this (got inspired by some of Arabesque05's oneshots and the song 'when the deal goes down' by Bob Dylan - it's a lovely song, and the video to it is beautiful :) There's not really a proper plot to it, but...oh well. I hope you've enjoyed reading, and I'd like to have your feedback please :D


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